


seven sins (virtues)

by amuk



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hints of different support continuations, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-30 02:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17215433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amuk/pseuds/amuk
Summary: “You have many friends,” Robin told him. It was strange, now that she mentioned it, Libra could see he wasn’t as alone as he thought.





	seven sins (virtues)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Libra zine, I had a lot of fun writing this one. I wanted to use as many different supports as I could.

 

  1. Gluttony



“Libra!” Nowi poked her head into the tent, a broad smile on her face. “You ready?”

 

Without waiting for a response, she flounced over and grabbed his hand, half dragging him out into the main camp. Silently, he thanked the heavens that he was dressed; Nowi had an unfortunate habit of entering unannounced his tent. Despite the awkward encounters and promises to knock, she’d forget until the next time it happened. Letting her take the lead, Libra quickly caught up to her pace. “Where are we going today, Nowi?”

 

“Hmmm…” Nowi stopped, scratching her chin as she thought about it. “Well, we haven’t gone to the weapon smiths yet.”

 

“The weapon smiths?” Libra repeated, surprised. Despite how long he’d been in the camp, there was always more to see, more people to meet. He hadn’t even considered smiths before but now that he considered it, how else did their weapons remain in such pristine condition? “Lead the way.”

 

“You really don’t know many people, huh?” Nowi gave him a baleful look, disapprovingly shaking her head. “I don’t even need to see them and I know them.”

 

It was shameful but true. The cooks, the stable boys, the smiths—there were a lot of people Libra didn’t know, a lot of people he had overlooked during his time with the Shepherds. Even though he had helped Cordelia cart weapons back and forth across the camp, he had never once considered where they were going and coming from. “It is a mistake I will rectify now.”

 

“Don’t worry!” Nowi bumped her shoulder against his arm, grinning up at him. “I’m your teacher, so I’ll help.” She bounced next to him as they walked through the maze of tents, passing sweet smelling concoctions that could barely hide the stench of sweat-stained armour. Quiet arguments drifted in the air, voices he could barely recognize. There was Fredrick, lecturing the poor soul that crossed his path. Stahl was running to the bathrooms once more, his bowels even weaker than Olivia’s shy disposition.

 

A woman picking petals sat nearby, looking up as they passed. She waved and he faintly recognized her as Sumia. Ahead of them, Virion raised his hand in a fond greeting before staring at his hand as though it were a foreign appendage. Before Libra could greet him back, he turned bright red and practically ran in the opposite direction.

 

“I wonder what happened to him?” Libra mused, perplexed. Virion had behaved strangely with him several times now and he wasn’t sure if he should feel insulted by the response.

 

“Wow!” Nowi looked back and forth at him excitedly, her eyes darting to every person they crossed paths with. She almost bounced as another person greeted him. “All those people waved at you!”

 

He lowered his hand, staring at it. “I suppose I know more people now.”

 

“No, no, you know _a lot of people_ ,” Nowi corrected, her smile growing even wider. “Gosh, that’s amazing! And we’re going to meet even more people and soon you’ll know everyone!”

 

“I…” Libra nodded slowly, not having the courage to tell her he didn’t need to know everyone. It was enough to know a few people well. It was enough that she came to him almost daily, her warm hands pulling him closer and closer to the society that had always shunned him. “I will.”

 

 

“Ohhh, this is great!” Nowi squeezed his hand tightly, sending a tingle up his arm. “I know we’ll find your heart soon.”

 

Her fingers left an impression on his skin, long after she let go.

 

     2. Envy

 

“How’s it hanging back there?” Sully yelled into the wind.

 

Clinging to her tightly as they rode at a breakneck pace, Libra could barely hear what she said, let alone reply. Any words he gave were immediately stolen by the wind, flung off to destinations unknown. In a way, it was like him; they had been riding for an hour now and he had no idea where they were, to say nothing of where they were going to.  Gently, he squeezed her to indicate that he had heard her.

 

She laughed, as wild and rough as their trip, and her horse slowed. When they came to a stop, she gently patted the hands wrapped around her waist. “Alright, we can take a break before heading back.”

 

He could not admit how grateful he was for that. Releasing her, he slid off her horse, almost stumbling as he landed on the ground with a thud. Turning back, he held out a hand to help her.

 

“Huh?” She stared at it for a long moment and he remembered, too late, that she was the tomboy to end all tomboys. Sully didn’t need the help. Before he could withdraw it, she grabbed it and swung herself off her horse. “First time anyone’s offered since I was a tyke.”

 

“I am sorry, I did—”

 

She cut off his apology with a snort. “Nah, it’s fine. Nice to see what the other side’s like.” Her face was flushed from the ride, her hair a wild mess. He imagined he looked the same. Stretching her arms behind her, Sully cocked her head. “So, how was the ride?”

 

“The ride was…” Libra swallowed, not sure what to say. A lie, a truth, or something in between. His indecision must have crossed her face because Sully crossed her arms.

 

“You can tell me the truth, I won’t be mad.” Her expression remained the same, warm and amused, as though she had been expecting this. Perhaps she had. Despite what she thought of herself, Sully was surprisingly perceptive.

 

“It was interesting,” he admitted slowly, not wanting to dim her smile. “A touch faster than I would have enjoyed.”

 

“Very nice and polite of you to say, sir.” There was nothing cruel about the way she mocked him. Hands on her hips, she leaned forward with a wry grin. “I guess priests can’t swear?”

 

“Swear?” Libra stared at her blankly, bemused.

 

“Well, if someone kidnapped me and took me off to the middle of nowhere, I’d be swearing right now.” Sully laughed and just like the rest of her actions, there was something about it that made him want to join in. Everything about her was inviting, relaxing, and he imagined this was what having a safety net felt like. “I’ll take ya back after my partner here’s had a rest.” She patted her horse’s neck affectionately, her eyes soft.

 

“I am not just saying it.” Libra shook his head. “While it was not what I was expecting, it was truly interesting and fun.”

 

“Really?” Sully furrowed her brow. “You’re not pulling my leg?”

 

“No, I enjoyed it more than I expected.”

 

Sully frowned, considering it for a moment, before clapping him on his back. “Alright, I’m glad. Though, you know, if you don’t like something, you can just say it. I know I said it before, but you can be a little more selfish, you know? It won’t harm us any if you just say no or what you’re thinking.”

 

“I will consider it,” he promised, when her hand lay heavy on his back.

 

“See, like there, you could just say no.” Sully laughed. “But I’m glad you didn’t.”

 

     3. Pride

 

“You will have tea with me,” Panne announced, straight to the point as usual. There were no questions in her request, her words as blunt as a dull blade, and Libra could only nod before she whirled around and led him to her tent.

 

After a few seconds of awkward silence as they walked, he cleared his throat and asked, “What kind of tea do you make?”

 

“A taguel tea.” Panne looked down for a long moment. “It aides in sleep.”

 

Libra stared at her in surprise. Had it been that obvious? Ever since Tharja’s experiments, he had been dreaming of his past more and more often. While it was not enough to interfere with his work, clearly some signs of sleep deprivation had shown or Panne would not have appeared as suddenly as she did. “I see. Thank you.”

 

“It is not for you. I was brewing it for another and there is enough for two.” Panne’s words were clipped and to the point, hardly wasting even a breath for the niceties of civil conversation. He admired that about her, of how easily she made her decisions without a thought of how it would be perceived.

 

His own decisions were a more lengthy process, a balancing of pros and cons. “You truly are kind.”

 

She didn’t reply, though she turned her face slightly away in embarrassment, just as she had the last time he’d complimented her. Even more admirable, her actions were always without expectation of praise. Ducking into a tent, she gestured for him to follow. “In.”

 

Entering after, he found a shocked Lon’qu sitting on a crate. Lon’qu recoiled before recognizing him. “Libra?”

 

“Yes?” At his voice, Lon’qu relaxed and Libra was reminded of his fear of women. It was bad enough his appearance caused troubles for himself, now there were others to worry about as well. Panne left them both without a word, pulling out a satchel of herbs. No explanations were needed, it seemed. “Are you here for tea as well?”

 

“It’s soothing.” Lon’qu’s voice was low, soft, and just as to the point as Panne’s. There was more than one honest soul in the camp. “You need it?”

 

Need. He closed his eyes, remembering his childhood, the loneliness that gnawed at his spirit as a child before he went down a path that could not be redeemed, only repented. Need was the word for it. “Yes.”

 

Lon’qu gestured at the crate next to him, make-shift chairs for the camp. “It will be bitter.”

 

“Many things in life are.” Sitting down, he watched as she brewed her tea. Just as with all actions, there was a self-assured confidence as she mixed her herbs with the water, steeping it slowly. “It will nonetheless be effective. She is very kind to share it.”

 

Lon’qu looked over himself, his expression softening a notch. “Yes, she is.”

 

“I am not the kind one,” Panne retorted as she turned around, two cups of tea in her hand. No doubt her ears heard every aspect of their conversation, just as she did the many others spawned outside this tent. “Take it and sleep.”

 

“Thank you.” The tea was sweeter than he expected, but he supposed that was just like the woman herself.

 

    4. Wrath

 

“You dropped this.” Libra jogged over to Maribelle as she strode by, waving the piece of paper in his hand. Her shoulders were square, her gaze determined, and he wondered for a moment if she was heading to war before he broke her concentration.

 

“Pardon?” She peered up owlishly over the stack in her arms, blinking slowly at the paper. Her eyes darted from her stack to the sheet as her skin slowly flushed a beet red. “I am truly sorry about that, please add it to the pile.”

 

“It’s no problem.” Libra quickly guessed the midpoint of the pile before carefully grabbing it from her. When she opened her mouth to protest, he gently chided her, “You have helped me many times now, allow me to help you once.”

 

“…my thanks.” She gave a relieved smile as she adjusted her grip on the remaining stack. “Truth be told, I was worried about how I would return to my tent.”

 

Peering down at the stack, Libra examined the text on the papers.  Lines upon lines of evidence and previous rulings filled the paper, the font tiny in order to cram it all in. “Law cases?”

 

Maribelle nodded, her expression turning grim. “After our discussion, I thought I should study. Though it is still unknown when this war shall end, I do not want to waste a minute. ”

 

Justice for all. From anyone else, those words would be a lofty ideal but from Maribelle, it sounded like a truth. If anyone could make that world, it would be her. Libra matched her pace as they headed to her tent. “It is a very admirable goal.”

 

“There is nothing admirable about it, it is how the world should be.” Maribelle’s brow narrowed, her jaw clenched. Even in her anger, she still looked elegant , her rage the refined tip of a blade. “The fact that I even have to do this is wrong.”

 

“Still, nonetheless inspiring.” He smiled at her, taking careful note of the pallor of her skin, the bags under her eyes. For now it seemed that she was all right. “Do not forget to rest.”

 

“Why—” Maribelle frowned as she realized what he was referring to. She looked away, her cheeks puffed up as she pouted. “That was one time.”

 

“One time too many,” Libra corrected, remembering her collapse on the field. “Next time, I might not be able to aid you in battle.”

 

She opened her mouth to argue, a lawyer in everything but paper. If she had it her way, they’d argue for hours. Quickly, he added, “Do you want Lissa to worry?”

 

“Lissa?” With a sigh, she relented. “Very well, I cannot deny your point. Since we are still at war, I will ensure I rest properly.”

 

“That was all I desired.” That said, that last point worried him. What happened after the war? With her drive, Maribelle could easily forget to eat, to sleep, to take care of herself.  He glanced down at her slight frame, at the stubborn set of jaw, and maybe he could check up on her. From time to time at least.

 

“What about you?” Maribelle asked, still looking a little put out. Adjusting the stack in her hands once more, she peered up at him. “What are your goals after the war?”

 

“I wish to repent,” he replied instantly.

 

This time, she did not hold back her arguments, admonishing him with a glare. “You have nothing to repent for.”

 

“That is not—”

 

She cut him off. Her full attention was on him and he pitied whatever criminal lay at the other end of it. “No, that was the fault of the justice system, that was the fault of our laws and our people, but that was not your fault. A child should not have to steal to survive, a child should not have to worry about his safety, and yet you did.”

 

“It was still wrong, Maribelle.” Libra looked away, ashamed. “No matter the circumstances, I still committed a crime.”

 

“Even if you had, you had long since repaid your debt.” Irritation rang through her clipped tone, each word firing out like fire ball. “We have treaded this argument enough—fine, if you are repenting, how are you planning to do so?”

 

Libra’s expression softened, remembering the children at the orphanage. “I will return to the orphanage. There will be many more orphans after this war and I want there to be at least one respite for them, one haven from their suffering.”

 

Maribelle smiled softly. “That is quite like you. Your dream is admirable as well.”

 

“It is an ordinary dream.” Libra stopped in front of her tent, gently depositing his stack on top of hers.

 

“Ordinary dreams are very important.” Maribelle shook her head in disagreement, her curls flying around her. “Do not underestimate what the impact your wish will have on all of those children, the lives that will be changed and touched by that ordinary wish.”

 

Words had power. He had never known that as much as when he talked with Maribelle, her reading verdicts aloud to point out how just the right phrase can mean innocent or guilty. Words had power and it would be ignorant to claim that his own had none. Libra clasped his hands, reminded once more of just how much he had to learn. “I will keep that in mind.”

 

“Good.” She watched as he turned to go before calling out after him. “If you should require any legal or monetary assistance, let me know.”

 

“I will.” Libra paused. “And if you need someone to keep an eye on your health, I am available.”

 

Maribelle turned a bright red. “It was one time!”

 

    5. Lust

 

“You sleeping fine?”

 

Libra looked up from his book in surprise. Half hidden in the corner of his tent, Tharja stood awkwardly, her arms crossed. She looked more like a wrath than anything else, a ghost hiding from the sunlight. It was rare that Tharja spoke to anyone other than Robin, even rarer still that she even entered anyone else’s tent. Softening his expression, he nodded. “Quite well, thanks to you.”

 

“I did nothing.” Tharja grimaced at the praise, still skulking in the shadows his tent. She avoided the opening as much as possible, as though to hide her presence entirely. “I cursed you.”

 

“And that curse aided me.” Libra set his book down, clearing space on his bed before gesturing for her to sit next to him.

 

“A side effect. An accident.” Tharja ignored his request, blending in even more with the canvas of his tent. She pointed at her eyes. “Just like the bags on your eyes.”

 

So that was why she was here. Truly, his compatriots were a kind, generous group. Libra smiled gently at her. “While it took some time to sort through my memories and feelings, I feel more refreshed now.”

 

She rubbed her arm. “So it wasn’t a curse or a hex then.”

 

Was it worry that brought her here? Tapping his chin, he shook his head. “No, I do not believe so.”

 

“Too bad.” Tharja stared at him a moment longer, biting her lip lightly the entire time. Whatever she found must have been enough for she started to slink back out of the tent.

 

“I’m taking your words quite seriously,” Libra called out, before she could escape through the tent entrance. “I am trying to be happier.”

 

She paused at the threshold, her fingers gripping the edges of his tent door. “That has nothing to do with me.”

 

With that, Tharja disappeared into the night. Libra smiled as he returned to his book. Later, he would have to find her a gift to thank her with, something she wouldn’t refuse at the sight.

 

       6. Sloth

 

Minerva lowered her head onto his lap, giving him more access to her ears. Surprised, he reached forward and scratched her scaly skin. Judging by her happy croon, she could feel it, though he wondered just how much of the sensation actually got through her tough hide. Fortunately, the stool in the stables was comfortable; if Minerva had her way, he’d be sitting on it for hours.

 

“You’re still the best of friends, I see.” Cherche entered the stables, a small bag in her hands. Minerva’s ears perked up, her attention now focused on the bag—probably a snack, if Libra had to guess.  “You’re making me jealous.”

 

“I’m not as close as you two are.” Minerva gently pressed her head against his hand when he stopped scratching. Resisting the urge to laugh, he returned his attention to her. “Though I am hope I am getting there.”

 

“You’re doing a splendid job.” Cherche smiled, standing next to him. Reaching out, she patted Minerva’s neck. “Minervykins almost never gets to talk to someone so much. To say nothing of getting their attention.”

 

Minvera rumbled, the sensation shooting through her skin and up his arm as she closed her eyes contently. It was too bad most of the camp was too scared of her, they were missing out on one of God’s finest creatures. “I only wish she could get more.”

 

Then again, not too long ago, he had misunderstood her as well. Perhaps with time and a little patience, he will have to wait in line before he can pet Minerva. A loss for him but a gain for mankind.

 

“You’re going to spoil her,” Cherche warned, but her delighted expression said otherwise. Teasing, she leaned down and cocked her head. Laughter bubbled out of her, like water overflowing in a bath. “Are you still trying to talk to gophers?”

 

“Perhaps not gophers.” Libra laughed along with her, remembering his harebrained scheme. “But one day I do hope I can talk to all of God’s creatures.”

 

“That’s quite the task.” Cherche cupped her cheek, considering it. Before she could add anything, Minerva nudged her bag. “Hungry, Minervykins?” At her partner’s answering growl, Cherche opened the bag and pulled out a morsel of meat. Tossing it into Minerva’s open jaw, she crooned, “Here you go.”

 

It was a very different side of Cherche here. Libra wasn’t sure if he should watch the spectacle as Minerva eagerly snapped up everything or Cherche as she acted as though she was feeding a baby, not a giant wvryen. Sully was the same with her horse and he wondered if instead of learning to speak to animals, he should instead investigate these hidden sides of his companions.

 

“You want to try?” Cherche asked, mistaking his stare for interest. She held out a bloody slab of meat, looking at him expectantly. “Just make sure to toss it in, Minervykins might be gentle but she is a terrible judge for how big her jaw is.”

 

“Uh…” Libra stared at the meat and then back to Minerva’s gaping maw. As much as he enjoyed her company, it was a step too far. “Pardon me, I must leave.”

 

As he quickly escaped, Cherche’s laughter and Minerva’s amused snorts followed him.

 

    7. Greed

 

“Libra!” Robin stood across from him. “Is this seat free?”

 

He looked up from his plate, his spoon dangling in from his fingers in surprise. Libra wasn’t sure what surprised him more—to see Robin away from the strategy tent or that she came to his table of all places. Generally, he ate alone. Gesturing to the spot in front of him, he shook his head. “It’s fine.”

 

“Great.” Robin grinned, sliding in. Her tray was set with a clang, the porridge spilling slightly, but either she didn’t notice or she didn’t care. “Good morning.”

 

“Good morning.” He took a bite of his own porridge, reminding himself to thank the chef personally after. After all that effort Nowi made to introduce him to everyone, he didn’t want to lose those connections.

 

Robin took a bite of her own, grimacing at the taste. “I know it’s good for me, but I just can’t get used to the taste.”

 

“Try adding a little honey,” Libra suggested, pushing forward the jar he acquired from Gaius. “I find that helps.”

 

“Does it?” Curious now, Robin took a spoon, mixing it thoroughly in. Taking another bite, she grimaced once more before adding another spoon of honey. “Just need to adjust the ratios a bit.”

 

“I am glad it worked.” Libra watched as she experimented, her grimace growing lighter with each iteration.

 

“It’s good enough.” Robin finally pushed the honey back. Done, she rested her head in her hand, giving him her undivided attention. “Thank you for the drawing, again. I got a special container for it, so it definitely won’t get destroyed this time.”

 

Libra stared at her, stunned. Even now, it surprised him how much she liked his scribbles. “I can draw you another, even if that happens.”

 

“And while I’d like another painting, I don’t want to lose this one too. It looks so nice!” Robin sighed, taking a small spoonful of her porridge. “Definitely a family heirloom.”

 

Libra flushed, not sure how to handle the praise. Looking down at his breakfast, he smiled softly. “I’m glad you like it.”

 

“Love it,” Robin corrected. “Even if I were to lose my memories all over again, I’d still remember this.”

 

“That would be terrible.” Libra frowned. Even as a joke, he didn’t want to hear it. “I would rather you remember everyone.”

 

“No, that’s true. I don’t want to forget everyone either.” Robin twirled her pigtail sheepishly. “Bad joke, sorry about that.” Glancing down the empty table, she asked, “Do you always eat alone?”

 

“Libra!” Nowi popped into the seat beside him before he could answer, balancing a bowl on her head. Before it could fall off, he carefully placed it on the table. She grinned toothily at him. “Thanks!”

 

“That was rather uncouth,” Maribelle sniffed, sitting down next to Robin. She delicately placed her tray on the table, barely making a sound. “What if you spilled it?”

 

“Aww, come on.” Sully set her own tray down with a bang, food sliding out of it. “She managed to balance it that far.” She gave Now a thumbs up. “Impressive distance.”

 

“Right?” Nowi beamed brightly. “Next time I’ll even sit with it.”

 

“Ohh, I look forward to that.” Sully waved at Robin and Libra. “Morning!”

 

“And now you have encouraged her.” Maribelle frowned, sighing before she politely greeted everyone.

 

“Sometimes they have to make a mistake before they realize they are wrong.” Cherche commented as she passed by. She gave Maribelle a knowing smile. “Virion is the same.”

 

“So that’s how you handle him.” Maribelle glanced over to where Virion sat, trying and failing to flirt with one of the maids. “Though I do not think he is learning much.”

 

“No, unfortunately there is no cure for him.” Cherche shook her head sadly. After greeting Libra, she walked away. “I have to go feed Minerva now.”

 

“Good morning, Robin.” Libra almost jumped when Tharja sat next to Robin, more a wraith than anything. She nodded to him, the only greeting she’d give, before turning her attention back to Robin. “I’m eating the same thing.”

 

“Try adding honey to it,” she suggested, sliding over Libra’s pot to her. “It tastes much better with this.”

 

Tharja’s eyes widened, a faint flush on her cheeks as she eagerly grabbed the jar. Immediately, she started doling out the honey. “Thank you.”

 

“No problem.” Robin looked around her and laughed. “I guess I was wrong, then, you eat breakfast with your friends.”

 

Friends. Libra rolled the word in his mind, looking around himself. Funnily, he had never realized just how many friends he had, just how many people wanted to spend time with him. Looking at them all, he nodded. “Yes, I suppose I do.”


End file.
